Here comes rhymin’ Simon. It’s not a phrase we would have imagined saying again, in the context of a concert tour, after Paul Simon wrapped up his official farewell tour seven years ago. There was reason to believe he had valid reasons for marking that as his real goodbye to road shows, and not as the kind of fake-out retirement that so many performers cash in on and then renege on. But he has found solutions to the issues that might have kept him off-stage. By the time he kicked off a five-night stand at Walt Disney Concert Hall this week, Simon was a full 40 shows into his 2025 “Quiet Celebration” outing. And he was sounding… yes, softer (as promised in the tour title!) but, really, undiminished. We’ve never had a better reason to be glad someone went back on their word.
You might look at the “A Quiet Celebration Tour” moniker and ask, as your first question: Well, how much quieter? And the answer is: not terribly much. You shouldn’t mistake this for an all-acoustic tour, although that’s the tone that is taken prior to the show’s intermission, when Simon and his band play back his most recent album, 2023’s “Seven Psalms,” in its front-to-back, suite-style entirety, mostly solemn and without much in the way of tempo or electricity. But then, in the second act and encores, you get 15 catalog selections, including some tunes that count as rabble-rousers by Simon standards. The evening does turns into a party, despite his best intentions to keep it down.
There’s a subtlety to what makes this tour so successful that really does have something to do with volume, or the appearance of it. Simon has as many as 11 players on stage at a time, and during the classics, they’re all playing more or less the same very busy parts they would have played before, on a “Graceland” or a “Cool, Cool River” or even a “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard.” Yet the arrangements have been calibrated so that the loudest songs seem ever-so-slightly dialed down, almost imperceptibly, to match what might be a little different for the frontman this time around. Any sense of that won’t come as a complete surprise to the audience, because Simon has been open about his hearing issues, stating that only through an elaborate, advanced system of stage monitors has he felt like he could reasonably tour again. There’s also the matter of his voice, which is a little bit softer with age. It’s as if everything has been finely tuned to allow Simon to act his age (which is 83), without doing any kind of stinting on the rich and able-bodied performances.

The performance of “Seven Psalms” is referred to by Simon as “the first half,” although, by actual volume, it’s well under that. It’s safe to guess that most of the audience comes in being unfamiliar with the record, and this is where the booking of fine-arts joints like Disney Hall comes in handy, as even attendees who haven’t come to see the symphony there can still pretty easily intuit that the venue lends itself to a kind of hush and some focused attention skills. The folky “Seven Psalms” exists pretty much at the meditative, impressionistic and spiritual end of his spectrum — with the exception of “My Professional Opinion,” which comes in the middle of the suite and lands with a playful blues feel. It has Simon grappling with the concept of God and exploring unreconciled relationships in the later chapters of life, and it’s not easily graspable on first listen. But maybe the performances on this tour are inspiring a lot more people to check out one of 2023’s most unfairly overlooked albums, one that has exactly the ambition and personal meaning you’d hope for from a great artist who has no desire to go into that good night coasting.
The seven song titles from this album helpfully appeared on an overhead screen as their number came up, to offer an indication of transition without anything as gauche as actually pausing the music for applause. But the album is really more than seven numbers, since the opening song, “The Lord,” gets several unbilled reprises as the suite courses along. That song alone, in its many iterations, counts as a major latter-day Simon work, as he ponders every possible way of looking at the Lord, from shepherd to wrecking ball, incorporating both the most Christian and the most irreverent possible imagery. By the time he’s sung through it all, you won’t exactly know whether the singer is a believer or hardened skeptic, but you’ll know that Simon, the mystical poet and baseball nut, has covered all bases.
His wife, Edie Brickell, came out to guest on the song cycle’s final two parts, “The Sacred Harp” and “Wait,” as she apparently does every night on the tour. She stands on the opposite side of the stage from Simon, to sing her parts, but in musical spirit, at least, they’re as close as the two owls perched together on the “Seven Psalms” album cover. A concept album that starts out being all about God finally ends on something more knowable in this life — the bonding with another human being — and when they sing “Amen” in harmony to end the cycle, it feels like it has to do with Simon facing eternity and with putting a divine seal on his and Brickell’s enduring love affair.
And then the longer second “half” rewards fans for any patience with that opening with a set that hits all the Simon fandom pleasure centers. He hits almost al the obvious greatest hits (albeit no “Bridge Over Troubled Water” or “You Can Call Me Al”) and finds a few deeper cuts (like “St. Judy’s Comet,” a 50-year-old track from “There Goes Rhymin’ Simon” that’d apparently been performed not even a dozen times prior to this tour).
The band got a lot more workout on some of these oldies than on the more minimalist and hypnotic “Seven Psalms” material. The presence of two veteran sidemen in Simon’s cast made for especially memorable and even touching moments. The bass player, Bakithi Kumalo, was introduced as the last surviving member of Simon’s original South African “Graceland” band, and his link to the frontman’s (arguably) most essential era was invaluable with some fleeting signature vocalizations. Meanwhile, Steve Gadd, one of three drummers or percussionists in the ensemble, was back in the fold from the early ’70s to play what could count as pop music’s most famous snare drum part, on the encore of “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.” And if that isn’t worth the price of admission…

Horns and strings had their place — mostly the latter, with viola player Caleb Burhans and cellist Eugene Friesen managing to sound like nearly a full Kronos Quartet up there at times. (Friesen’s instrumental entwining with Simon’s acoustic guitar during a stripped-down portion of “Slip Slidin’ Away” was a lovely example.) Nothing was too radically rearranged, although you could notice that “Homeward Bound” had been subtly transformed into more of a country song, between the train-like sound of brushes on drums and Mick Rossi’s lilting piano line.
The screen in this half was used for the occasional photo illustration instead of the previous act’s song titles: If you ever wanted to see the actual photo that inspired “Rene and Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After the War,” there you had it. And “The Late Great Johnny Ace,” which had an unusually expansive spoken intro by Simon, climaxed with the sight of Johnny Ace, JFK and John Lennon side by side on the big screen, each of them with “Johnny Ace” as the caption under his name.
Brickell made a return appearance, entering from the wings to contribute a whistling solo to “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard.” On this song, which served as climax to the main set, it was like the evening had been the concert equivalent of “Benjamin Button” — beginning with Simon in his advanced years looking into the great beyond, and ending with him as a schoolboy.
But the denouement grew somber again, with Simon finally alone on stage with just his acoustic guitar for company, bringing things back to an origin point in a different way with a closing rendition of “The Sound of Silence.” Just as we were all born in dust and to dust we shall return, so it is with silence, maybe for any of us, but especially for a Paul Simon who (along with Garfunkel) had that existential hymn as his fluky first No. 1 smash 60 years ago.
To return to a burning question, or at least one that was on the minds of fans before this tour started: What is the sound of Simon right now — his singing voice, particularly? When he appeared on the “SNL 50” special recently, there was some alarm that he did not sound as youthful as, well, his duet partner Sabrina Carpenter. Or, to give the scoffers more credit, as robust as he did even on his earlier 21st century tours, pre-retirement. The answer to that should be a reassuring one, for anyone who hasn’t yet caught the tour and is thinking about scoring a resale ticket before it’s all over. The best way to describe it is that, for maybe the first 60 seconds of the show, you may be struck by how Simon’s voice sounds a bit more fragile, at this age… and then after that brief period of adjustment, you forget about it. It’s rare to notice many high notes that has been scaled down for age, and you never have to worry about him missing any notes. (And he didn’t sound any worse the wear for just having had the back surgery for acute pain that forced him to cancel a couple earlier shows… the only reference to having been under the knife being an acknowledgement at the top of the show that he’d had “the craziest week.”)
So, in other words, in the best way, he sounds like an 83-year-old choirboy. How fortunate are we to unexpectedly get to share his sanctuary again?

Setlist for Paul Simon at Walt Disney Concert Hall, July 9, 2025:
Set 1: Seven Psalms
“The Lord”
“Love Is Like a Braid”
“My Professional Opinion”
“Your Forgiveness”
“Trail of Volcanoes”
“The Sacred Harp”
“Wait”
Set 2:
“Graceland”
“Slip Slidin’ Away”
“Train in the Distance”
“Homeward Bound”
“The Late Great Johnny Ace”
“St. Judy’s Comet”
“Under African Skies”
“Rene and Georgette Magritte With Their Dog After the War”
“Rewrite”
“Spirit Voices”
“The Cool, Cool River”
“Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard”
Encores:
“50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”
“The Boxer”
“The Sound of Silence”

The remaining dates on Paul Simon’s 2025 tour:
July 12 Disney Hall, Los Angeles, CA
July 14 Disney Hall, Los Angeles, CA
July 16 Disney Hall, Los Angeles, CA
July 19 Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, CA
July 21 Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, CA
July 22 Davies Symphony Hall, San Francisco, CA
July 25 The Orpheum, Vancouver BC
July 26 The Orpheum, Vancouver BC
July 28 The Orpheum, Vancouver BC
July 31 Benaroya Hall, Seattle, WA
August 2 Benaroya Hall, Seattle, WA
August 3 Benaroya Hall, Seattle, WA
Arriving at The O2 for the first night of Radiohead’s London residency, we walk in under Stanley Donwood artwork lining the walkway and the lines of the band’s bleak modern chant “Fitter Happier” printed on a huge banner hanging from the ceiling of the former Millennium Dome. The moment instantly brings back memories of walking into Oasis’ Live “25” tour earlier this summer. This is the other major rock return of the year and the atmosphere carries a different kind of excitement, yet the intensity feels just as real. Instead of bucket hats and throwing drinks into warm air, we have cold weather and a slow shuffle through the night to gather in the dark. Toniiiiiight, I’m a pig in a cage on antibiotics.
It almost feels unreal that nine full years have passed since Radiohead’s last album, the rich and sorrowful “A Moon Shaped Pool”, and that they have not toured since 2017. In between, we have seen several side-projects, including Ed O’Brien’s overlooked but inspired solo run as EOB and the way Thom Yorke and Jonny Greenwood nearly recreated Radiohead’s spirit under a different name through the sharp jazz-rock of The Smile, as well as a wave of controversy.
After performing in Tel Aviv in 2017, questions grew louder about the band’s connection to Israel as the horrors of the genocide in Gaza intensified. Attention landed on Greenwood’s collaboration with Dudu Tassa, an Israeli musician who has played for the IDF, and on Yorke’s later comments responding to criticism. The guitarist had joined anti-government protests in Israel, where his wife is from, and the band recently made their views clear again by speaking out against Netanyahu’s regime, insisting that music should be something that unites people from every culture. That idea guides the show tonight, where there is no sign of protest or boycott.
The audience surrounds the stage, which sits in the center to create a more personal and absorbing feeling than most massive arena shows ever manage. A flickering vocoder opens the room and builds tension before the band walk out and jump straight into old-school territory with the raw guitar gloom of “The Bends” opener “Planet Telex”. It is one of many choices designed to thrill the crowd from a group not always associated with this kind of approach, and the packed venue screams back “everything is broken. why can’t you forget?” as a shared release against everything falling apart in the world around us.
With a “busking approach” guiding the tour, the band rehearsed more than 70 songs and have performed around 43 so far, so this is not the predictable hit conveyor belt of Oasis’ shows. It feels refreshing to never know what is coming next. The setlist leans heavily on the treasures from “OK Computer” and “In Rainbows” and gives equal space to the once-dismissed but now appreciated “Hail To The Thief”. It creates a kind of Radiohead-style hit parade, without “Creep” of course, and includes the occasional glammed-up oddity to let the show breathe.
There is the roaring political fear of “2+2=5”, the huge and aching sweep of “Lucky”, the pulsing electronic rush of “15 Step” and the joyful sing-along of “No Surprises” anchoring the early part of the performance. This section also includes “Sit Down. Stand Up.” with a new soft happy hardcore ending, “Bloom” from the fragile “The King Of Limbs” that now carries a brighter neon energy, and “The Gloaming” flowing into “Kid A”, giving the night a moment to sink before everything intensifies again.
There is not a single chance for a toilet break from that moment onward. From the gentle pain of “Videotape”, to the wild three-part surge of “Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” into “Idioteque” and “Everything In Its Right Place”, to the guitar-driven “In Rainbows” songs and the massive first-act finale of “There There”, every moment lands exactly how a Radiohead fan would hope. The visuals also look spectacular.
Then we reach the reward of a seven-song encore that reads like fantasy on paper, complete with the newly viral “Let Down”, a playful return to “a song we wrote on a freezing cold farm in 1994” with the indie powerhouse “Just”, and the huge final blow of “Karma Police”. This show becomes the cinematic and artistic contrast to Oasis’ carefree chaos, capturing that feeling of “standing on the edge” and letting everything wash over you. The entire night carries a fierce energy and a well-judged sense of scale, offered with warmth and intention, and Yorke leans fully into his rockstar presence as the band rotate around the stage to engage each part of the arena. For a group that once cringed at the idea of “arena rock”, no one performs it better. A new album and another night like this would be welcome as soon as possible.
‘Planet Telex’
‘2 + 2 = 5’
‘Sit Down. Stand Up.’
‘Lucky’
‘Bloom’
‘15 Step’
‘The Gloaming’
‘Kid A’
‘No Surprises’
‘Videotape’
‘Weird Fishes/Arpeggi’
‘Idioteque’
‘Everything In Its Right Place’
‘The National Anthem’
‘Daydreaming’
‘Jigsaw Falling Into Place’
‘Bodysnatchers’
‘There There’
‘Fake Plastic Trees’
‘Let Down’
‘Paranoid Android’
‘You and Whose Army?’
‘A Wolf at the Door’
‘Just’
‘Karma Police’